Rossi's Nightmare
by FotoBridgeT2
Summary: A small piece that occurs just at the end of my longer work "Interim" Complete. Emily arrives at the hospital in time to have a conversation with Rossi's brother.


(This is a piece from my longer collection and is a complete oneshot. I am working furiously on finishing the entire long collection--totals around 600 pages--to post on my homepage within the next week. Please visit and check out the entire ebookish creation "The Lion and the Antelope" that is my H/P creation--complete with images and hidden stories that I have not posted on this site! Thanks)

ROSSI'S NIGHTMARE

AFTER INTERIM

_Unfortunately, the balance of nature decrees that a super-abundance of dreams is paid for by a growing potential for nightmares. _

_Peter Ustinov _

Emily carefully opened the door to Dave's hospital room, not wanting to disturb him if he was sleeping. He probably was, it was near midnight and he had to have had a hard day.

Still, she'd needed to come and see him—just to make sure he was ok, alive. To have something to focus on besides the whole Adrian Templeton arrest. Had that only been twelve hours ago?

Dave was asleep and she almost turned back, almost. The sight of the man sitting staring at the sleeping profiler made up her mind for her. "Steven. How is he?"

"He's fine, now. Still no infection, thank God. He, uh, had a nightmare." Steven wouldn't admit how much it had upset him to see his brother in such pain—and it wasn't physical. "It's kind of late for you to be here, isn't it?"

"Just got back from a case." Emily said, to the man she'd went on a few dates with. She'd enjoyed herself, liked him. He was so uncomplicated. Now she wasn't so sure how she felt about him. How she felt about anything. Her, him—Hotch.

"Oh. Did it go well?" Steven asked, a bit disconcerted. He really liked the woman in front of him, but when he'd stopped to think about the job she did—the same job that had landed his brother in that hospital bed--he wasn't so sure.

"Not really," Emily said, "But we eventually got the guy."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" What else could he say? He didn't want to ask about whatever monster it had been. Did not want to know.

Emily felt the awkwardness, and it didn't require any of her profiling skills to determine what was behind it. It had happened to her before, when the reality of her job set in with the men she'd been interested in. "Yes, that's all that matters. I enjoyed the book. It was a pleasant surprise. And the lily was a nice touch."

"I saw it and I thought of you." Steven said, standing and looking at her. She really was a beautiful woman, and he'd be rather stupid not to go for it. He took a step toward her, to do what--he wasn't sure.

She must have realized he'd moved, for she quickly stepped back, closer to Dave's bed. Reached down to pat the older man's hand. She gasped when the hand turned up and grabbed hers.

When Dave began to moan.

"He's doing it again!" Steven said, hurriedly rushing to the other side.

"Nightmare!" Emily quickly sized up the situation. "Dave. It's alright. You're safe here. Wake up. It's Emily, Dave, and I need you to wake up."

"Emily?" The man rasped. "Why are you here—you're supposed to be with Hotch."

"Hotch went home, Dave." Emily said, as his brown eyes opened. As he looked at her confused.

"I can still hear the kids screaming, Emily. I have to help them."

"We did help them, Dave. Remember—I cuffed the man myself. Remember? You and I—we ran through the park. We got him, Dave. You can rest assured it's over." Emily spoke in a firm tone, focused on Dave. But she didn't miss the way his brother pulled back from the intensity of the emotional drama. Pulled back from her.

She wasn't too upset about it. Not now, anyway. She was too churned up inside because of the last case, the way Hotch had changed, and her own feelings of confusion, to worry about a man who apparently couldn't handle her job.

And it's not like they'd done anything. They'd only had a lunch date and one dinner date. Nothing major, nothing serious.

But still, it made for an awkward moment. She continued to sooth her colleague until he fell back to sleep.

"He should be ok, now. Just remind him that it's over, if he wakes up again."

"I, uh, will." Steven moved around the bed, blocked her exit from the room. "I really enjoyed being with you, Emily."

"I enjoyed it, too." Emily said. "But we both know it wasn't anything serious, right?"

"Of course. I live in Philadelphia and you live here." Steven backtracked, wondering if he was that transparent.

"Right. And you can rest assured I'll be here for Dave, if he needs it. Even if he won't admit it." Emily tried to move around him, just a little. He subtly blocked her path. "I really need to be going. Tomorrow comes early at the BAU."

"Yes, the BAU." Steven said, almost resentfully. "Emily, before you go. I just need to do one thing."

"Yes?" She asked, growing slightly uncomfortable with his hands wrapped around her arms. Still, she wasn't completely defenseless—if the need arose. "What is it?"

"I hope you don't think me too pushy, but…" His words trailed off as his head lowered. As his lips pressed against hers lightly. Pressed deeper when she didn't resist. He released her arms, slid his hands around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

She could smell his aftershave, a faint piney scent that was pleasant. He tasted like coffee and peppermint candies as he deepened the kiss even further. All in all, Emily didn't really mind—but it was nothing earth-shattering.

And for a woman like Emily Prentiss it would have to be. She wanted a man who could make her burn, make her tremble. Make her feel vulnerable and defenseless against him and the passion he'd ignite. Make her feel wanted, needed, treasured—hunted.

Someone who'd understand the darkness she hid within, because they had the darkness in them, as well.

Unfortunately, Steven Rossi was not that man. And they both knew it.

He released her, pulled back, looked down into her face. "Would you like to have dinner tomorrow evening? Just as friends, nothing more?"

"I'd like that, Steven. I really would." Emily said, and knew she wasn't lying. Steven was a good guy, smart, funny, intelligent, with whom she could have scintillating conversations with, and she'd hate to lose him as a friend, because he couldn't handle her job. "Tomorrow at seven?"

"Seven, it is."

"Good."


End file.
